Sunday, July 20, 2014

Life and the Beach

A
beach, I think, is a pretty good allegory for life. I find it especially true
for the crowded beach of an all-inclusive resort.

Let
me tell you why.

You
come there for a week, ten days, or, if you’re lucky, two weeks. You lie in the
sun, you bathe in the sea, you participate in the activities, you drink your
mojitos and your daiquiris.

Sometimes,
something mildly exciting happens. The people on the banana-boat got overturned
again. Look at them, they can’t get back on. A photographer parades with a huge
yellow snake or with a cute monkey. Not both of them at the same time. A man
and a woman with beautiful athletic bodies, their skin ebony, wearing tribal
attire, pose -he with women and she with men- perhaps for the same
photographer.

Sometimes
you might even get noticed. If you’re too fat, too skinny, too beautiful, too
ugly, topless or wearing the loud neon-green bathing suit that doesn’t hide
anything. Most of the time you observe the scene from underneath your umbrella.
You might play a game or two of volleyball or take the salsa lessons given
right there on the sand by an impossibly flexible guy from the animation team. You
might build a sand castle. Others have certainly built nicer sand castles than
yours, but you’re proud of yours anyway. You might even think it will last.

And
then, it’s time to leave. You thought it was going to last forever but it’s really
time to leave. And you’re gone.

Somebody
might remember you for a while, for instance the people who occupied the
umbrella next to yours, just because you were always there if nothing else. The
same way you remember the teenager looking like Heckle (or Jeckle) the cartoon magpies, or the trail of Dolce & Gabbana “Light
Blue” always following the woman whose face you’ve never actually seen, or the
guy with the tiny boom box at his waist (the same guy with the neon bathing
suit!) or the guy miraculously carrying five plastic cups of beer in each hand plus
one in his mouth. But then those people leave too and there’s nobody there to
have even seen you let alone known you. New
people come to the beach, build their sand castles and then they leave, and so
on.The beach is always there. People come and go.

I
guess that’s the beach. And that’s life.

So
I suppose what I mean is that it’s nice to enjoy it while you’re there. Dance
your dances, drink your drinks, and don’t worry too much about your sand
castles.

How accurate!I liked the part about being in the shade of one's umbrella.Ah, the perception and the lack of understanding that stems from it, sometimes.I hope you all had a good time and I think you should sometimes share more family artwork here ;)

just got back from vacation...i was not at the beach though...i love the beach...its rhythm is one i try to take with me...and learn from everytime i go...its much more natural than our pace...ha....smiles...

__I'm sure I'd left an earlier comment here... didn't seem to link well.>But<__I like your observations of "the beach" and the humanism found among the grains of sand. __The best gift, "Mamma," is your daughter's sand portrait of you!_m

In Search of Lost Time

A Member of the Shameless Lions Writing Circle

He leaped at me
from the faded tiles of
Ishtar's procession.
His claws sank deep
into my flesh,
the dust of all illusions upon us.
"What seek you?" he rumbled. "The brilliance
is gone,
the gold is ashes."
"One named Alexander," I said.
"He was once a god."

My Heart Only

In the orchard of pink grapefruit, I walk.
What gleams, what sparkles, so lively, so slyly,
In the hot well of this darkness?
No stars in the high, no glow worms in my skirts.
Only your eyes, your glare of sapphire.
Your mighty roar echoes for me alone,
Sweet and bitter.
Do not devour me, lion of my heart.
Let us sacrifice this ripe grapefruit.